I have twelve post drafts right now. Most of them are very good ideas, both humorous and genuinely thoughtful. However, I don't feel like writing anything intentionally humorous or thoughtful. I don't feel like writing anything at all, but it's been an appalling amount of time since my last post.
I should've written a seriously heartwarming Father's Day piece, because I have the best dad in the world. I should have at least posted a damn picture of us on Facebook and been like "Omg i hav the best daddy everrrrrrr love you daddddd," but I didn't do that either.
Truth is, I've been mostly frustrated with everyone for a while. Like actually everyone. Everyone annoys me in ways that vary in legitimacy.
Right now I am lying on the living room couch in an overheated tangle of red blanket and pillows. My hair is freshly cut and salon-straightened, which always makes me feel glamorous. The glamor is counteracted by the Nike shorts paired with a nice shirt, though.
The overhead fan is on. But it's still too warm.
I'm not complaining. I'm only trying to think of things to say.
I've gone through this post and deleted every instance of "really" and "just." That added up to five deletions. I think refraining from using those words will make my writing stronger.
I have a job with Classical Conversations as a production intern now, in addition to working at my dance studio. I'm basically living the dream, even though I'm totally still broke. Both jobs pay more than minimum wage, involve activities I enjoy, and offer flexibility. I have no legitimate complaints there.
I feel kinda sick. I've eaten a lot of cookies and ice cream in the past few days. (We hit three graduation parties on Saturday alone.) I currently feel really gross. I've reached the stage where I choose to communicate in sign language and don't want to move my body. I think I'm allergic to being full.
This Thursday, Sarah leaves for Italy and Greece on her 19-day trip. James is logging as many hours at our house as possible before she leaves. Poor guy. He's going to need therapy by the time she gets home.
As will I. But we don't go there. Everyone knows I'll miss her a ton. We don't have to dwell on it.
I fell asleep on Gem's shoulder last week while watching Sherlock (ten hours of babysitting four kids will wear you out). He said I was adorable, but I was actually just embarrassed, so yeah. For the record, I am not actually adorable. He keeps getting that word confused with accurate adjectives likes "difficult" or "exhausted" or "awkward."
I don't know. I will post something eventually. For now, just try not to expect much. It irks me.
P.S. Look at THIS post. Number 12 is about Gem, and now I can finally say what I was afraid to back then :) I have a huge crush on him and it feels scary serious.
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